<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The 'British Government's' Expansion by kerwynlar</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28032780">The 'British Government's' Expansion</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerwynlar/pseuds/kerwynlar'>kerwynlar</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sherlock (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Greg Lestrade, Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Anthea (Sherlock) is the Best PA, Cravings, Discussion of alpha/omega dynamics, Fainting, Fluff and Smut, Implied real person as offstage character, Interrogation, M/M, Male Pregnancy, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, Omega Mycroft Holmes, Omega Verse, Pregnant Mycroft Holmes, Pregnant Sex, Recalled mating/knotting, Threat to family member, does it matter if the tags are out of order?, indigestion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 23:34:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,035</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28032780</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerwynlar/pseuds/kerwynlar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Omegaverse Mystrade mpreg fic. </p>
<p>One vignette for each trimester of Mycroft’s pregnancy. Smut/pregnant sex in the second part of the second trimester if you want to skip that. </p>
<p>I had a LOT of fun thinking about Mycroft’s job and how a pregnancy would play out. I hope you have fun reading it!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mycroft Holmes &amp; Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>156</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The 'British Government's' Expansion</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I mostly write original stuff and I’m just finding my way around the fandom world. But in my wanderings here I stumbled on to Mystrade and they got very stuck in my head, so here we are.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>DI Gregory Lestrade unlocked the door to his posh London house and tossed his keys onto their usual spot on the entryway table. He suddenly froze, a frown on his face. There was someone else in the house, he could sense it, and his husband wouldn’t be home for hours. Very few people knew that Mycroft Holmes was anything beyond a high ranking bureaucrat, but for those who did know what kind of power he wielded, he could easily be a tempting target. Greg drew the gun from the holster at his hip and held it in front of him at eye level, ready to fire. He moved almost silently through the house until he got to the living room. The intruder was in there, he could tell. He spun quickly into the room, training his gun on the person on the couch, then gave a startled yelp. “Mycroft! Jesus Christ, what are you doing home? I thought you were an assassin or something!” Greg quickly holstered the gun, taking in the fact that his husband’s lanky form was sprawled over the couch, one arm covering his eyes. Greg’s Alpha instincts kicked in. Something wasn’t right with his Omega. “Mycroft? Did something happen? What’s wrong? Is it the baby?” </p>
<p>Mycroft sighed and moved his free hand to his abdomen. It was still flat. If anything Mycroft looked thinner than normal one month into his pregnancy, given the intensity of his morning sickness. Greg perched on the edge of the couch beside his Omega and covered Mycroft’s hand with his own. </p>
<p>“I fainted,” Mycroft said softly.</p>
<p>“Oh, Mycroft, I -” </p>
<p>“I fainted in front of her.”</p>
<p>“Her?” </p>
<p>“Her. <i>HER</i>, her.” </p>
<p>“Shit, babe.” </p>
<p>Mycroft removed his arm from his eyes to glare at his husband. Greg wasn’t sure if it was because of the profanity or because Mycroft didn’t like it when Greg called him ‘babe.’ “What happened?” he asked to cover. </p>
<p>“I started feeling nauseated in the car on the way to Buckingham Palace,” Mycroft said, pinching the bridge of his nose, “and had to rush to the facilities the moment I arrived. I … lost my stomach and then barely had time to rinse my mouth before I had to hurry to my appointment.” </p>
<p>“Oh, Myc…” Greg caressed his cheek. </p>
<p>“When I went to bow… I blacked out and just … kept going down.” </p>
<p>“Were you hurt at all?” Greg asked, concerned. “Did you hit your head?” </p>
<p>Mycroft shook his head. “Very plush carpets at the palace. And I think my shoulder hit first. It’s a little sore but will be fine.” </p>
<p>“Have you eaten anything?” Greg asked gently. </p>
<p>“When I came to, she insisted I have tea and biscuits before sending me home in one of her cars.”  </p>
<p>Greg blinked for a moment. Only his husband. This could only happen to Mycroft Holmes. He recovered quickly. “Could you stomach some soup if I heated it up, love?”</p>
<p>Mycroft nodded. “That sounds nice.”</p>
<p>Greg planted one kiss on his husband’s forehead and another on his belly, then went to the kitchen. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next morning, Greg heard the doorbell as he was getting dressed for work, and heard Mycroft answer it. When he entered the kitchen a few minutes later, his husband was making himself toast and there was a package on the table. Greg’s eyes lingered on Mycroft for a moment. He was wearing one of his immaculately tailored three-piece suits, complete with pocket watch and pocket square, and seemed to have suffered no lasting effects from the previous day’s fainting spell. Greg stepped up behind Mycroft and wrapped his arms around his waist, nuzzling the place where the Omega’s shirt and jacket covered the bond mark where his neck met his left shoulder. </p>
<p>“Gregory…” Mycroft breathed. </p>
<p>Greg pressed his hand gently against the front of Mycroft’s waistcoat, laying smooth over the still-flat belly. The Alpha paused to wonder how Mycroft would dress when his belly was round with his pregnancy, and the unbidden fantasy of his husband’s large belly bursting the buttons off one of his waistcoats was enough to make him half hard. He quickly stepped back before Mycroft became aware of his arousal, and turned his attention to the package. “What’s this?” </p>
<p>“Delivery,” Mycroft said with studied nonchalance. </p>
<p>Greg frowned and removed the lid of the box which was already askew. Inside was an incredibly soft small pastel yellow blanket with a white lace trim. “Is this a baby blanket? What’s it made out of?”</p>
<p>“Cashmere, I believe,” Mycroft replied primly. </p>
<p>Under the blanket Greg found what appeared to be very fancy peppermint tea and a box of ginger candies. An envelope made of thick, luxurious paper sat on the table. When Greg picked it up he saw it was addressed to “Mr. Holmes,” but what he saw next made his breath catch in his throat. </p>
<p>“Mycroft,” he said softly, staring at the envelope. </p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“Mycroft. The royal seal is on this envelope.” </p>
<p>“Yes.” </p>
<p>“Is this package from … her?”</p>
<p>“Yes.” </p>
<p>“Can I read the note?”</p>
<p>Mycroft sighed as he brought his toast to the table. “I suppose you may if you don’t fuss about it.” </p>
<p>Greg carefully eased the notecard from the envelope and read the handwritten message. “Dear Mr. Holmes, My husband practically subsisted on peppermint tea and these ginger sweets in the early days of each of his pregnancies. Do take time to rest and take care of yourself so that you may continue to care so ably for our nation. My warmest congratulations to you and your husband. Best wishes…” he did not bother to read the signature. “Mycroft!”</p>
<p>“I thought you weren’t going to fuss,” he replied after swallowing a bite of his toast. </p>
<p>“We are framing this!”</p>
<p>“We most certainly are not.”</p>
<p>“We are framing this and hanging it in the nursery!”</p>
<p>“<i>No</i>, Gregory.” </p>
<p>“Fine, then I’m framing it and putting it on my desk at work. She congratulated your husband too, after all.” </p>
<p>Mycroft’s lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes got hard. Greg knew he had gone too far. There were rules about being with Mycroft, rules that he had agreed to years ago and studiously followed. And he had just joked about breaking one. Greg put the note down on the table and squatted next to his husband’s chair. “Hey, I’m sorry.” Mycroft took another dainty bite of his toast. “Myc, you know I was joking, but I acknowledge that the joke was in poor taste and not funny. I’m sorry. You know I would never compromise you.” </p>
<p>Mycroft sighed and put the toast down, finally turning to Greg. “You can’t tell anyone about this.”</p>
<p>“I know.”</p>
<p>“Including Sherlock and John.”</p>
<p>Greg took Mycroft’s hands in his own and kissed them. “I won’t say a thing.” </p>
<p>“If anyone asks where we got that hideous baby blanket, we will tell them it came from some elderly relation with whom we have very little contact.”</p>
<p>Greg paused. “Are you related to her?”</p>
<p>“No.” </p>
<p>“I promise to hold the party line,” Greg kissed Mycroft’s hands again. “On this and everything.”</p>
<p>Mycroft reclaimed one of his hands and ran it through Greg’s salt and pepper hair. “Thank you, Gregory.”</p>
<p>Greg kissed one of Mycroft’s thin knees. “I love you, Mycroft Holmes.” </p>
<p>“I-“ Mycroft suddenly blanched and pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, then exhaled slowly. </p>
<p>Greg grimaced. “You going to the loo or should I get you some water?” </p>
<p>Mycroft took another deep breath. “Water please.”</p>
<p>Greg quickly filled a glass and brought it over, then rubbed Mycroft’s back while the Omega took cautious sips. After a minute Mycroft leaned his head against Greg’s stomach and closed his eyes. “I do think your pheromones help a little,” he murmured. </p>
<p>“Then let’s both call in sick to work, go upstairs, get in bed, and I can hold you and cover you in my scent all day.”</p>
<p>“As wonderful as that sounds, my car will be here any minute, and I must get into it and go do my job. I am pregnant, not sick.” </p>
<p>Greg grabbed the note. “‘Take time to rest and take care of yourself’! You’ve got a royal mandate, Myc!”</p>
<p>Mycroft nearly started to explain that that was not how a royal mandate worked, but instead shook his head and started to push himself to his feet. Greg quickly grabbed his elbow to support him, and held on as he swayed a little. “Thank you, Gregory.”</p>
<p>“Mycroft, sit back down and try one of those candies while I make you a thermos of peppermint tea to take with you in the car.” </p>
<p>Mycroft opened his mouth to argue but instead beckoned Greg in for a kiss, then did as his Alpha said. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>———————————————————</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Three weeks in and Mycroft’s second trimester was going much better than his first. His tailor had been truly genius with his suits. Hidden panels of elastic and pleating had been added in more places than Mycroft was even aware of so that everything still looked beautifully tailored while comfortably accommodating his noticeably round belly. The extra stretch was not only good for his belly’s steady increase in size, but it was also put to use at mealtimes. The morning sickness had faded and Mycroft’s appetite was back with a vengeance. </p>
<p>That appetite was making itself known, as his stomach growled loudly enough for the person across the table to hear. Mycroft gave a small smile and patted his belly. “Excuse me.” He checked his pocket watch, the chain of which had been lengthened to accommodate the growing width of his waistcoats. It had been thirty-seven minutes since he had texted his request to Anthea which meant-</p>
<p>The hydraulic door swung open with a hiss and Anthea entered. She was wearing a crisp black skirt suit with stiletto heels and carrying a tray. Mycroft’s mouth started watering and his stomach grumbled again at the sight of the tray’s contents. “Perfect, Gertrude, thank you.” </p>
<p>Anthea’s mouth quirked up in a half smile. She never knew what alias he would use for her when he was in this kind of … meeting. She placed the tray in front of him and left without a word, the door shutting with a “clunk” and leaving almost no difference to the rest of the blank white walls of the room. </p>
<p>Mycroft speared a chunk of pineapple with a fork and took a swipe of liver pâté on a knife, then spread the pâté on the pineapple and popped it into his mouth. “Mm! Delectable! Just as I suspected, the earthy umami flavor of the liver is brightened perfectly by the sweet acidity of the pineapple. Perfect. Would you like some?” </p>
<p>His companion made a disgusted face. “Nyet.” </p>
<p>Mycroft took another bite. “Your loss, really.” </p>
<p>“This is your tactic?” the other man asked, raising his hands that were shackled together. “You chain me here and make me watch you eat this disgusting thing?” </p>
<p>Mycroft took one more bite and quickly wiped his mouth daintily on the cloth napkin Anthea had included on the tray. “Certainly not. This is the very pleasant satisfaction of a pregnancy craving.” He opened the case of the tablet on the table beside him and started typing. “No, no. My tactic… is this.” He showed the tablet to the man across the table who blinked but otherwise gave no response. </p>
<p>“Now that, as you are of course aware, is your childhood home. And your mother still resides there, does she not?”</p>
<p>“This is ridiculous, I’ve never seen that house before in my life.”</p>
<p>“You are welcome to maintain that fiction for as long as you can. Ah! Here we are.” On the screen a boxy truck with writing in Russian pulled up in front of the house, and a man in coveralls got out. Mycroft tapped a button on the screen. “Give us a wave please, Alexei.” The man on the screen touched his ear momentarily then waved at nothing. Mycroft set up the tablet so they both could see, and sat back, rubbing his belly with one hand. “Now, Alexei is going to knock on the door and when your mother answers it, he is going to explain to her that he is from the gas company, here to make repairs, and he will ask her not to use the gas while he’s working.” The man on the screen approached the door and knocked, and a few minutes later an elderly lady answered. The man across the table from Mycroft flinched, and Mycroft continued. “The work that Alexei will actually be doing is installing a device which, when triggered, will explode but make it appear that the blast was caused by a faulty gas line. And you know that house is sufficiently isolated that no one will see Alexei at his work.” Mycroft took another piece of pineapple and pâté. “If you tell me what I want to know, Alexei will remove the device. If you refuse, I’m afraid that will be the end of dear mamochka.”</p>
<p>“I have never seen that woman in my life. But even if you had my mother, she is a bitch. Good riddance.”</p>
<p>Mycroft slowly spread pâté on another bite of pineapple, and ate it leisurely, then intertwined his fingers over his round belly. “Maybe you don’t care. That’s not what my information suggests, but let’s consider for the sake of argument that it’s true. Now think this through with me. A gas main just happens to explode and blow up a KGB agent’s mother.”</p>
<p>“Former KGB,” the man interrupted. </p>
<p>Mycroft made a dismissive gesture and continued. “There will be completely insufficient evidence that anything untoward happened, certainly nothing that would make this an international incident, but you know perfectly well that people will look into what the agent has been up to, and they will find out that you spent - oh forty-eight hours or so in the company of the British government. And what do you think that our mutual friend Vladimir will think about that?”</p>
<p>“He will think that I didn’t tell you shit, you Omega cunt!” </p>
<p>Mycroft waved a forkful of pineapple at the other man. “Ah, there you are very much mistaken. Because our friend Vladimir will find out that the Omega cunt you spoke to was the man responsible for the 2013 incident in Muscat, as well as the unfortunate 2018 summer in Sao Paolo, just to name a few of my accomplishments that I am certain you are aware of.”</p>
<p>The man’s face fell. “That - that - no, that wasn’t you. Not both of them.”</p>
<p>Mycroft grinned. “Oh, I assure you it was me. Both of them, and others.” He paused for a moment to let that sink in and enjoy the man’s look of horror. “Now, you can tell me what I want to know, I will have Alexei remove the device from the gas line, and it is possible that this discussion may escape notice. Or, you can continue to be tiresome, mamochka dies, and your government will assume that you told me everything <i>because they know exactly what this Omega cunt is capable of</i>.”</p>
<p>Hours later Mycroft’s car stopped outside his house and his driver cleared her throat. “Mr. Holmes?”</p>
<p>Mycroft woke out of his light slumber. “Mm, thank you, Lucy.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and consulted the calendar. “8:00am tomorrow, I think.”</p>
<p>“Very good, sir. Have a good night, sir.”</p>
<p>“You as well.”</p>
<p>Mycroft gathered up his umbrella and briefcase and eased himself out of the car. As he was about to fish out his keys the door swung open. Mycroft’s smile was warm and a little sleepy. “Hello, Gregory.”</p>
<p>“Are you alright? Is everything ok?” Greg asked, looking him up and down for any sign of trouble, then ushering him into the house and shutting the door. </p>
<p>“Yes of course, dear. You got my texts, I had a situation that needed to be resolved,” Mycroft said, a little puzzled as he put his things down. </p>
<p>Greg wrapped him in a hug, burying his face in the crook of Mycroft’s neck, nuzzling his bond mark and deeply inhaling his scent. “I know. I’m sorry. Just Alpha hindbrain instinct. It’s been heightened since you’ve been pregnant and a little nuts since you’ve been showing.”<br/>
Mycroft managed to bite back the first acerbic response that came to mind, and stroked the back of Greg’s neck for a moment, then focused on making his voice soothing. “I am fine, Gregory. I just had to work late. Everything is fine. I’m here now.” </p>
<p>Greg forced himself to let go and take a step back, shaking his head. “Thank you. I’m sorry to be ridiculous.” He placed a gentle hand on Mycroft’s belly. “Have you eaten?” At Mycroft’s affirmative, he continued, “Enough?”</p>
<p>Mycroft chuckled. “For now at least.” He stepped forward, pressing the swell of his pregnancy into Greg’s abdomen. “Come on, Alpha,” he breathed in Greg’s ear with a mischievous grin. “Take me to bed.” He practically squeaked a second later as Greg scooped him up and began carrying him, wedding night style, to the bedroom. </p>
<p>“Really, Gregory. This is quite a display!” Mycroft huffed in Greg’s arms. </p>
<p>“Have to get my displays in now,” Greg grinned, “before you’re too heavy to lift. At the rate you’re going that’s going to be soon.” He quickly cut off Mycroft’s retort with a kiss. </p>
<p>A minute later, Greg gently deposited Mycroft on their bed. Mycroft at once took off his jacket and tie, and Greg knelt in front of him to take off his expensive Italian leather shoes. </p>
<p>“I’m not big enough to need you to do that yet,” Mycroft said ruefully. </p>
<p>“I know,” Greg said, moving his hands up to the round belly, “but I wanted to be down here for this.” Very gently, the detective began easing open the buttons of the waistcoat, and removed the pocket watch, laying it aside. Greg removed the waistcoat, Mycroft moving his arms through, then started on the starched shirt. One by one Greg carefully undid the buttons, his hands resting against Mycroft’s body all the way up. The shirt was discarded, leaving only the undershirt. Greg slid his hands under the hem and rested them on the warm, firm bulge of his husband’s belly. Mycroft sighed in pleasure. Slowly, slowly Greg moved his hands up Mycroft’s torso, taking the undershirt up and over his head to reveal the pale skin. Mycroft rubbed a hand over the top of the round swell, giving Greg a quiet half smile. Greg leaned forward to kiss Mycroft’s belly, and both their manhoods began to harden. </p>
<p>“You’re so beautiful like this,” Greg murmured in between kisses, his lips brushing against Mycroft’s skin with every word. “I can’t get enough of you. Of this belly. Knowing that you’re growing and nurturing our child, the child we made together… it drives me wild, Myc. I love this so much. Love you so much.” </p>
<p>Mycroft sank back onto one elbow, pushing his belly forward and up so Greg moved his attention to the Omega’s sensitive underbelly. Mycroft gasped as Greg traced a line with his tongue from belt buckle to belly button. “Oh! Oh, Gregory. I - I love you too. Please, I need you.” </p>
<p>Greg’s eyes dilated with lust when his Omega said he needed him, and he immediately undid Mycroft’s belt and trousers, pulling off the trousers and pants much more quickly than he had dispensed with the waistcoat and shirt. He revealed Mycroft to be completely hard and a bit of slick moistening his hole. Greg leaned forward to kiss up the length of Mycroft’s cock, then back down to balls, and around to the hole, where he licked repeatedly. Mycroft’s whole body shuddered with pleasure and he cried out at the feeling of Greg’s tongue beginning to tease him open. Greg pulled back suddenly and Mycroft was barely able to stop himself from whining. Mycroft leaned up to see Greg rapidly undressing, almost tearing his clothes off in his haste. And then Greg was lifting him again, lying him gently on the bed and putting a pillow under his hips. Greg ran his hands up and down the back of Mycroft’s thighs, then leaned forward to kiss the inside of one knee. Greg ran a hand from Mycroft’s other knee to his arse and gave a loving squeeze before slipping his fingers between the cheeks, and one finger into the warm, wet opening. </p>
<p>Mycroft groaned as Greg penetrated him, and rubbed one hand over the sensitive swell of his belly. “More, Gregory.” Greg complied, bringing a second finger to join the first, and beginning to stroke. Mycroft gasped and grabbed the pillow behind him with his free hand, gripping it white-knuckled. </p>
<p>Greg rose to his knees and quickly moistened his member with the wetness on his fingers and his own precome. He lined himself up, and gently pushed in, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head at the feeling of Mycroft’s arse around him, and then moaning as he went deeper. Even after years of being together, through heats and ordinary sex, entering Mycroft, his husband, his Omega, felt amazing every time. </p>
<p>After a moment he came back to himself to see Mycroft smirking up at him. “Still with me, darling?” the Omega asked. Greg placed a hand on either side of Mycroft’s torso and leaned down to kiss the smirk off his face. “Very, very much with you.” </p>
<p>With that, Greg began to slowly move his hips forward and back. Easing his cock deeper and shallower, never retreating past the tip, and never fully hilting. Mycroft growled at the pace and started thrusting into Greg’s movements, forcing his husband deeper. </p>
<p>Greg leaned down to kiss him again. “So impatient!” </p>
<p>“Gregory,” Mycroft huffed, “I love you with all my heart, but you are occasionally infuriating.” </p>
<p>Greg laughed and started going deeper, faster. Mycroft purred in approval. Greg knew he wouldn’t knot this time, couldn’t with Mycroft not being in heat, but he thought about it. Thought about the explosion of sensation when his knot had popped into Mycroft’s hole during his last heat and Mycroft had given an almost primal scream and Greg felt like he had come for days before they lay together, knotted together, exhausted. And they had conceived the child that now made that beautiful belly swell outward. </p>
<p>The recollection of their mating got Greg close, and without losing the rhythm he reached down to trace a finger around Mycroft’s sensitive belly button. </p>
<p>“Oh! Oh Gregory! I - I want to feel you come in me!” </p>
<p>That was enough. Greg thrust all the way in, imagining a phantom knot, and Mycroft’s internal muscles rippled, milking Greg’s cock for all it was worth. Greg came hard, shuddering through the orgasm and making unintelligible sounds. </p>
<p>Mycroft worked Greg’s cock with his arse, grinding it against his prostate before he climaxed as well, come shooting onto the bottom of his round belly. </p>
<p>Greg crumpled, his head coming to rest on Mycroft’s chest, and just managing to keep his torso from putting too much pressure on the pregnant belly. After a moment he slipped out and lay down beside Mycroft, who pulled himself against Greg’s side and put his head on Greg’s chest. Greg kissed his husband’s hair. “So how was your day?”</p>
<p>Mycroft laughed. “Well, the ending was quite good. But even before I got home it was satisfactory.” He paused, thinking of the Russian, and smiled. “Gregory, did you know that pineapple pairs quite well with liver pâté?”</p>
<p>“Urrgh!” Greg made a face. “I've got to remember to buy Anthea flowers.”</p>
<p>“Whatever for?” Mycroft frowned. </p>
<p>“Well, as the one who knocked you up, I feel a bit responsible for what she’s been going through.” </p>
<p>Mycroft raised himself on an elbow and shoved Greg’s shoulder. “You can feel responsible for going to get me a flannel to clean up with.”</p>
<p>Greg chuckled and kissed him before getting out of bed. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>———————————————————</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I arrested a murderer today,” Greg said, one hand rubbing over the smooth globe of Mycroft’s belly. Three weeks before his due date, the very rotund Omega lounged against Greg’s side with his feet up on the couch, wearing an enormous housecoat over equally large silk pyjamas.  </p>
<p>“Mm, was it the brother’s boyfriend?” Mycroft asked absently, his eyes half closed. </p>
<p>Greg sat up, spluttering. “Wha- how?! I didn’t say anything to you about that case! How did - oh, never mind. I shouldn’t even ask at this point. How long have you known?!”</p>
<p>With a sigh Mycroft hauled himself up and turned so they could see each other’s faces. “Just since yesterday. I would have said something if you weren’t clearly getting there yourself or if it had taken much longer.”</p>
<p>“You weren’t even in the office yesterday! You said you took the day off and slept most of the day!” </p>
<p>“And so I did.” Mycroft held up his phone. “It’s not like I completely unplugged though. I also got 4 pro-democracy activists out of Hong Kong before they were arrested and taken to mainland China. Just because your son is getting very tiring does not mean I'm not efficient when awake.” </p>
<p>“Do you solve all of my cases?” </p>
<p>“Hardly, darling. I just … keep an eye on things to make sure you’re safe.” </p>
<p>“I’m your Alpha, Mycroft! I’m supposed to keep you safe!” </p>
<p>“Oh don’t be primitive, Gregory. You’re my Alpha, I’m your husband, we can take care of each other.” </p>
<p>“Hmmph,” was Greg’s only answer. </p>
<p>Mycroft sighed and shifted, trying to make his heavy body comfortable again. “You are an incredible Alpha, my love. If I or our child were ever in physical danger, I know you would protect us with every ounce of your being.”</p>
<p>“Me and your army of spooks,” Greg said grumpily. </p>
<p>“Most of my ‘army of spooks’ as you call it, has no idea who I am. Are there people who would come to my aid if given orders to do so? Yes. But not because of any love for me, unlike you.” Mycroft saw Greg’s face start to soften and took his hand, smiling impishly. “And that army of spooks is absolutely no good to me when I’m in heat. I bonded with you because for the rest of my life I never want anyone but you to touch me that way. If, when I was 20, you had told me that I would one day be bonded to a man who would make me miss going into heat, I never would have believed you.”</p>
<p>Greg gave him a look. “You miss going into heat? Do I need to seduce you more?”</p>
<p>Mycroft blushed bright red. “No, the pregnant sex has been perfect in both frequency and quality. … But I do, after a fashion, miss being completely in your hands for days at a time. Since - since I’ve been with you I’ve felt safe enough to let my heat shut off my brain in a way I never did before. I do miss that.” </p>
<p>“Oh, Myc, I didn’t realize…” Greg leaned in and they kissed at length. </p>
<p>Finally they parted. “And before we completely leave the subject of your outstanding Alpha qualities,” Mycroft said, “I would like to point out that by impregnating me, you have achieved the highest biological imperative of the Alpha.” He rubbed his hands over his huge belly. “Thoroughly, I would say.” </p>
<p>Greg chuckled. “We both know your size says more about your appetite than my virility, but point taken.” </p>
<p>Mycroft’s stomach grumbled a little and he patted it. “Hmm, speaking of that appetite… I believe I hear the dinner leftovers calling my name. Would my big, strong Alpha help his beached whale of a pregnant Omega and fetch them?” </p>
<p>Greg laughed, kissed the crest of Mycroft’s belly, and went to the kitchen. </p>
<p>Upon his return, he looked thoughtful as he handed Mycroft the container of saag paneer and a fork. The Omega happily dug in, resting the container on his belly between bites. Greg sank back down to the couch, watching his husband eat. </p>
<p>“That arson I’ve been working ...” he trailed off, staring hard at Mycroft’s face. </p>
<p>Mycroft’s chewing slowed and he swallowed deliberately, but did not turn to look at Greg. “You have an arson case?” he asked, innocently enough. </p>
<p>“No, no,” Greg said, “don’t do that.” </p>
<p>Mycroft sighed, put the container down beside him, and looked at his husband. “The south London arson.”</p>
<p>“Well?” </p>
<p>Mycroft paused to stifle a burp. “Excuse me. The rival business owner did it.” </p>
<p>“No, Myc, we cleared him. There isn’t anything on him.” </p>
<p>Mycroft winced a little. “He’s having an affair with a woman you don’t know about. He routed everything through her.” </p>
<p>Greg stared at his husband open-mouthed for a moment. “You’re worse than your brother!” </p>
<p>Mycroft picked up the container of saag again and continued eating. “I am not. Sherlock gets by on insufferable arrogance and bravado. I have insufferable arrogance, bravado, and the resources of one of the most well-developed intelligence operations in the world.” </p>
<p>“Which you use to solve Scotland Yard’s cases and then selectively tell us about it?” </p>
<p>“I did mention saving people from rotting in a Chinese prison, didn’t I? I was going to say something about the arson soon. Or provide a nudge in the right direction.” Mycroft stifled another burp and put the now-empty container down.</p>
<p>“A nudge?! How often do you nudge me?” </p>
<p>“Oof,” Mycroft’s expression soured and he brought a fist up to his mouth. “I may have eaten that a little too quickly. Mmf.” His other hand pushed against the ball of his belly. </p>
<p>Greg’s face softened. “You ok?” </p>
<p>Mycroft closed his eyes and leaned back a little, effectively sticking his belly out farther. “At the moment, I am giving you a nudge that I need a belly rub.” </p>
<p>Greg sighed, but scooted closer and began to massage his Omega’s belly. “You know you only have a few more weeks to use your pregnancy to dodge my questions.”</p>
<p>Mycroft chuckled then winced at the indigestion. “Oh darling, as if I needed to be pregnant to dodge a question. Though I will use whatever resources are available to me.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>